


Hungry Eyes

by Bed_Man



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Anthro, Anthropomorphic, Cat, F/M, Furry, HMOFA - Freeform, Human, Human Male on Female Anhro, Romance, Story, felyne - Freeform, palico - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bed_Man/pseuds/Bed_Man
Summary: A hunter retires from his life and take up a new job as a cook, wherein he falls for his new boss, a charming little felyne.
Kudos: 1





	Hungry Eyes

(M Human x F Palico, Monster Hunter)

The sun beat down on me as I stood on the bow of the sandship. We'd been sailing the Great Desert for a while, and everyone on board the ship, myself included, was beginning to grow antsy. There was little to do to pass the time aside from trade stories or play cards, and those lost their enjoyment as the days went on. 

As the boat rocked to and fro on the midst of the waves of sand, I began to think back on my reasons for embarking on such a voyage. 

My name is Griggs, and I was a monster hunter. Now, I know there are many of my kind in the world. The Guild had seen to that long ago. But, I was bored with my life as a hunter. I'd fought nearly every monster known to the Guild. I'd slayed countless of these things, made a lot of zenny, had an entire house full of armor and weapons crafted from these beasts, and even forged some of the strongest friendships with the people I hunted with.

And yet, I became dissatisfied with it all.

I no longer got that thrill I once did during my hunts. The old adrenaline rush no longer took hold as I sliced my way through another rampaging beast. It made me wonder if I was broken. The only cure, I assumed, would be to change my life. If hunting no longer gave me the happiness it once did, then surely something else should.

Honestly, I'd been meaning to find another career, and this newfound melancholy gave me adequate cause to search out a new job sooner rather than later. And so, I took myself to the Guild's gathering hall, a large building where hunters from the entire town and surrounding areas comes together to take hunting quests and go slay any bad beastie causing problems. It was old and wooden, with three floors and a high ceiling. The constant noise of the people, either trying to take on quests or find any suitable hunters to join them, felt like home. I knew it would be hard to leave this behind, but if hunting itself no longer did anything for me, then leaving was for the best. 

As I meandered my way around the crowds of people, I came across an old face. A very old face. The moment we made eye contact, the man shot up a bright smile and pulled me into a tight hug. This was his usual greeting.

“Ah, Griggs, I haven’t seen you in a few days” he said, finally letting go, my ribs sore from the embrace. His voice was a roar, clearly heard above the noise surrounding us. “Where’ve you been, kid? Everybody at the smithy misses you.”

Dylis, the blacksmith. Ever a constant friend. Every hunt I go on, he’s the first man I see once I come home. He loves to hear stories of all my hunts, even if it’s something simple like chasing off a small nest of Jaggis. His bushy beard and kind eyes combine to make him look like someone’s grandfather, despite never having any kids of his own. He said kids were too much trouble. 

I sighed and couldn’t help but return his warm smile, even though I was about to give him some bad news. “Well, truth be told, old man, I’m fixing on leaving town. I just need to see the guildmaster and get all the paperwork in order.”

Hearing those words made Dylis’s smile drop immediately. It was painful to see that. Every time we talked, he kept a constant grin. With it gone, it made him look like I had just smacked him in the face.

“But, boy,” he stammered out, his voice a whisper, “you can’t just leave. We got new blueprints in for some fancy new swords I just know you’d love.” I could see some tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Dylis always wore his heart on his sleeve, and I had seen him cry once before. But that was a cry of joy over his smithing assistant getting her full blacksmithing license. I had never seen him genuinely upset like this before. “Griggs, son, this ain’t right. You’re a great customer, and a good friend above that. Hell, boy, you’re one of the first hunters who started using my shop after I set up here a few years back. You saying that don’t count for nothing?”

I couldn’t look into those sad eyes, afraid I’d change my mind. I’d made the entire plan already, I didn’t want to back down just because of one person, even if I thought of him as family. So, I collected myself and tried my best to calm him down. “I know this is hard. Believe me, I know. But, I can’t stay here. It’s complicated, and I don’t know how to explain…”

I saw a few tears roll down his cheeks then. That sight hurt more than any monster’s claws. My heart was about to burst just seeing the sadness on Dylis’ old face. I honestly didn’t want to see him before leaving, because I knew he’d be the hardest person to say goodbye to. 

“Dylis. I’m sorry. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you. Not just for always making weapons and armor, but for actually being a friend.” And he had been there for me in my hard times. After my first sour hunt, for instance, where I saw a young inexperienced hunter get killed by a rampaging Tigrex, I dove myself into alcohol, but Dylis was there to help work me through that. He was truly a saint of a man. 

And there I was, making the old man cry. 

A few people passing us by could hear our conversation, could see the distraught Dylis, and they walked up, asking if everything was alright.

“No,” Dylis said, “it ain’t alright.” He wiped his eyes and poked me in the chest. “Now, I don’t know why you wanna go leaving, but why didn’t you come tell me this sooner, lad? Don’t I deserve to give you a proper send-off after all these years?”

More people were beginning to take notice of us, and I had to diffuse the situation, for fear of causing a bigger scene. I couldn’t exactly argue against Dylis. He was right. My original plan hadn’t involved seeing him, but I couldn’t just admit that to him, or else he’d probably just get more upset. So, I instead walked him to an open table, hoping to clear the air and explain myself to him. 

He listened carefully, taking in my every word and not interrupting once. After I finished telling him why I was leaving, he took a moment to digest this information. The sadness in his eyes was still present, but when he spoke, it no longer sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “Boy, I can feel for you. It must not be easy to leave this all behind. But, I hope you find whatever you’re looking for out there. And just know, you can always call on me when you need some help, and I will chase down a damned Rathalos and fly there if need be.” He let out a laugh at his own joke, but I knew he was serious. He would go to great lengths for any he considered a friend. 

We talked for a small while, before finally saying our goodbyes, with Dylis heading back to the center of the hall to try to find any new hunters who would need a cheap blacksmith to make things for them. He was a good man, yes, but he was also a nuisance to other smiths, always selling his services just slightly lower than the others.

Looking back on it all, I really should have told Dylis I was leaving as soon as I made up my mind. We may both be sad at not being able to see one another, but by being honest with him, I left our friendship on a positive, if bittersweet, note. 

I stood up and began to head up the stairs to the guildmaster’s office. Located on the third and highest floor, it had a large window to view the entire hall floor. If you looked up from down there, you could see the window, and most times, you could see into it and view the guildmaster himself, pacing around the room while checking documents and reports. 

There was a guard stationed outside the office, but when I told him my name, he let me in with only a warning glare that made it clear I was to cause no trouble.

The office was relatively large, but packed in with filing cabinets and drawers and boxes full of files on all the guild members. I’m not entirely sure how the guildmaster could work in such a cramped environment, but then again, he was a tiny man, so moving around likely wasn’t as much of a hassle for him.

Finally, I was face to face with the guildmaster, a short old wyverian with spectacles a bit too large for his face, causing his eyes to appear like dinner plates. Noticing my entrance, he placed his stack of papers onto the desk and regarded me calmly before gesturing for me to speak.

“Guildmaster, I’m here to go over the issue with my hunter’s license,” I said, standing at attention, my hands placed behind my back. I never really knew how to best address him, so I treated him like a military superior. He had never corrected me before, so I assumed I must have been doing the right thing. 

Sighing, he removed his spectacles, setting them down on the desk. Without them, his eyes looked rather small. Beady, almost. As he stared at me, he opened one of the drawers to his desk, and pulled out a large file, my name written plainly in large letters on the front. He opened the file and began to flip through the papers within; reports of my hunts, letters I’ve sent during expeditions, and even some notes from thankful citizens for a job well done. He looked them over before motioning me over to him.

The silence in the room was almost unbearable as I walked forward. Once at the edge of his desk, he finally spoke up. It was, in fact, the first time I had ever heard him speak. Before, he had always conversed with hand motions and pointing, which led me to believe he was mute. He cleared his throat and spoke, “Griggs, when I read your report, I was a bit taken aback. You’re certainly not the first hunter who’s wished to leave the hunting lifestyle, but it’s always sad to see it happen.” His voice was soft, with a touch of an accent I couldn’t really place. 

“I would first like to extend my sincere gratitude for all your years of service as a hunter for the guild. I’ve read through your file, looked through your history as one of our hunters, and I must say, seeing you go will be tough. You’re good at your job, and it’s a shame to lose a talented hunter.” As he spoke, his long pointed ears drooped down slightly, his small eyes looking at the papers in front of him. 

He cleared his throat then, and placed his spectacles back on. “But, after reading through your personal reasons for desiring a transfer, I cannot in good faith deny such a request.”

He opened another drawer and pulled out a large stamp. “Now then, your licence, if you will.”

I opened up my pouch and placed my card on the table. On it was printed my name, address, the town I was stationed at, and my current job title, that being hunter. The old wyverian slid the card closer and pressed the stamp down on top. When he removed the stamp, my card had a new addition. In bold red letters across the entire length of the card, it read “Revoked.”

The guildmaster took a deep breath and put away the stamp, and placed my now useless licence inside my personal file, returning that as well to its drawer. He looked up at me and handed me a sealed envelope he seemingly pulled from thin air. 

“You shall be transferred to Valentia. Once there, give that letter to the local guildmaster. He’ll set you up right. I’m sure after reading through your file, he’ll figure out a good place for you in his town.” He smiled at that and offered his hand. Equally as tiny as the rest of it, it was also four fingered. I wasn’t used to wyverians much, as most of them tended to have research positions in the guild, and none of them really bothered associating with us ‘barbaric’ hunters. Taking his hand in mine, I gave it a firm shake and began to maneuver my way around the clutter to the door. Right before I could turn the knob, the guildmaster spoke once more.

“Griggs, if there’s any small comfort I can give you, it’s that Valentia’s guildmaster was a student of mine, and you’ll find the two of you are rather alike. I hope you enjoy your new life there, boy.”

Anyway, that, as long winded as it was, was the reason I found myself on a sandship heading to Valentia, a bustling town boarding the Great Desert. Being built in such a location, it was a perfect meeting place for hunters, merchants, and travellers. With so many people from so many walks of life coursing through its veins, Valentia was a great place for a fresh start. 

Some time before dawn, someone caught sight of Valentia in the distance. With our goal nearly in sight, everyone on board let out a collective sigh of relief. Finally, days of boredom and staring at a sandy expanse of nothingness would be broken by the hustle and bustle of the town. Thankfully, during our trip, we had only encountered a few Cephalos, which the crewmates easily dispatched. All in all, it was one of the most peaceful rides I’ve ever taken.

With the ship pulling in to dock, everyone began to gather their belongings. I had only brought along the essentials: a satchel of clothing, my old carving knife (just for safety), and a second satchel with some coin purses nearly full to bursting. I had sold most of my armor and weapons from back home, and it left me with a decent chunk of spending money. I didn’t expect to make so much off those old things, especially when a lot of them had plenty of dings and scratches along them. But, the merchant I sold them to was generous with his offer, and I assumed I wouldn’t find a better deal. My first order of business after meeting the local guildmaster was to find a nice place to call my new home. 

The first people allowed off the ship were the wyverians. Typical. But, most of them were part of merchant guilds, so I suppose their business needed to be tended to as soon as possible. The second set of passengers to be let off were the hunters and their palicos. Similarly to the wyverians, their assumed business in town was likely important. Maybe not, however, judging by a few of the hunters who I had previously overheard saying they were coming here just to try local cuisine while on break. 

After the hunters and their personal palicos came the rest of us, an assorted group of non-hunters and mostly solo palicos. Finally, I took my first step into Valentia proper. From that one step, I already felt a change in my attitude. My mind that was clouded with doubt and worry over the future, was now clear. It was as if just being in town erased my concerns and made me feel like new. Perhaps I just needed to get away from Jarin to truly feel free again. My thoughts clear, I made my way through the nearby market, heading for the guild’s gathering hall.

The market was large. Larger than the one back in Jarin. Everywhere the eye could see, there were tents of all sizes and colors. The merchants and peddlers had set up tables showcasing all manner of trinkets and baubles. A pair of short wyverians outside a red square tent were selling so-called enchanted rings to ward off a wyvern’s fire breath or to make the wearer resistant to electricity. A gruff looking man standing by a green tent was trying his best to weave tales of how his swords had been used by famous hunters of the past, and the weapons would be the ideal tool for dealing with anything out in the wilds. It was absurd to see just how many of these shops were around. You could barely take two steps before finding yourself face to face with another person attempting to sell you a shovel while telling you it was magical or some such. 

And by the elder, the market was a noisy place, even this early in the morning. Dawn had come and the sun slowly beginning to make his way upwards, but with how loud it was, one could easily mistake it for midday. With the amount of shops around, the merchant had to practically yell their heads off to catch your attention.

But I would not allow myself to become distracted. No matter what shiny item caught my eye, I had to remain focused on my goal. If I could make it to the gathering hall without incident, then all would be well.

Unfortunately, luck was not kind to me that day.

Despite making it through the densely packed streets of the market without buying anything, I noticed my satchel of purses felt noticeably lighter. Checking the contents within, I found that three of the bags were missing. Turning around, I tried to locate them, assuming they may have fallen out. I didn’t want to think someone had stolen them, as I tried to see the best in people. I also didn’t want to walk back into that mess of tents and people. Three purses of coins wasn’t too much of a loss. Surely, I could do fine without them. 

So, as I cut my way through the throngs, I tried to retrace my steps to find where my coins may have been taken. I even asked some of the merchants if they had seen anything. None of them said they had. Not like they would admit it if they had, though, those money grubbing bastards. I bet one of those little wyverians took my money, I thought to myself. It would be so typical of those little thieves. While I had retraced my path all the way back to the dock, I still came up empty. Without finding any evidence of my missing money, I resolved to just head back, but this time keeping my hands close to my satchels.

Once again, I found myself just beyond the exit of the market, this time without any prying hands having taken anything. The area after all the tents was the center of town, which housed a large fountain, the water sparkling in the early morning light. Surrounding the fountain were the usual flavors you’d find in a guild-approved hunting town: a blacksmith, a quest board, a canteen, and a courier. The blacksmith, like most of them, had an open air design, showing off the entire process of their work. The smith himself was a rather rotund man with wild hair pointing up in every direction. Not much interest for me there anymore, though I did give the man a nod of respect when I passed him by, and he waved back in acknowledgement.

The quest board was manned by a young woman in a green dress, and she had a mountain of dolls behind her on a little table, all of them in the image of some monster known to the guild. I was tempted to ask if any were for sale, particularly the one depicting a Lagiacrus, but she was busying herself with sewing another doll, which seemed to resemble a Brachydios. The courier was rather plain, a small wooden building of old designs. Out in front of the building sat a small desk, behind which sat a palico in a red vest and cap, happily reviewing which letters are to be sent to which resident. I assumed this was just the courier for this part of town, as it would be impossible for just one little cat to deal with all the mail for a place as big as Valentia. Surely there must be other desks around town.

As I passed by the courier, I was wrapped in the scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meats. At this point, I realized how long it had been since I had a decent meal. The rations we got on the sandship were enough to fill you up, for sure, but they were sorely lacking in taste. The intoxicating aroma wafting from the kitchen was all I needed to be drawn away from my walk to the gathering hall. I needed some of that food. Changing my course, I marched straight to the tables and was met with an orange tabby in a yellow smock, his fur neatly trimmed short.

“Hunter licence?” he asked, his paw outstretched expectantly. 

I reached for my pocket, and became confused for a second before it hit me. I couldn’t give him what I no longer had. Giving him an awkward smile, I replied, “I’m not a hunter.”

He furrowed his brows at that and pointed me to a seat before walking off, returning a moment later with a generous cup of ale. “So,” he said, “what do you want, Mr. Not-A-Hunter?” I noticed a little twitch along his lips, he was trying to cover a smile at his own joke.

I already knew my order. It was the same order I would get before a big hunt. I smiled, the taste of the meal already coming back to me, and told him, “Gimme an order of Rathalos steak and some stewed collard greens, with a side of Popo tongue.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the tabby waiter was off, making a beeline for the kitchen. There were only two other people at the canteen this early, and they already had their food, so I doubted my order would take long to prepare. 

I spent the time waiting by rummaging through my extra clothes, thinking maybe I should dress better for my meeting with the guildmaster. I wasn’t dressed horribly, just a simple white tunic and blue vest with some brown trousers, but I didn’t want his first impression of me to be poor. I looked, but I didn’t pack any clothes that really stood out. The old wyverian did say this guy and I might be alike, so maybe he’d be alright with me dressing plain. 

My rumbling stomach knocked away my thoughts and forced me to look up, seeing that orange furball heading my way again, carrying a large platter with my order. For something so short, a palico can have remarkable balance. Looking past him, I could see within the kitchen. The pots and pans lining the walls, the tools and utensils scattered around, the large table for preparing the food, the palicos sweeping and cleaning the floor free of any debris. Among those palicos was who I assumed to be the head chef. I didn’t get a good look, but I could see it was a tabby as well, though this one bore white and gray colors, sporting a blue apron, and holding a too-large-for-a-palico sized knife.

My order was placed in front of me on the table, taking my attention away from the kitchen. Wasting no time, I dug into the food. The steak was expertly seared, and had been rubbed in some spice I couldn’t even identify, but made the taste positively heavenly. I’d had the meal countless times in the past, but this was unlike them all. It was an experience of its own. It made me want to broaden my taste horizons and see what other delicious food was available here. If they could make my old favorite taste this good, I could only imagine what they could do with other orders.

But, as quickly as I had ordered, the meal was gone, my belly full and happy. Letting out a sigh of contentment, I noticed a slip of paper underneath the serving tray. The bill. Eight hundred zenny. I wasn’t used to paying this much, usually I paid half or even less. I called the orange felyne over to me and asked why it was so high.

He looked at me like I was an idiot. “No hunter licence, no discount.”

Discount? Is that why the waiters always asked to see my licence? I had always thought it was because by proving I was a certified hunter, they would provide me with better quality ingredients. Though, considering the meal I just had, that certainly wasn’t true. I almost wanted to argue the price, but since this was going to be my new home, I decided it best not to make an enemy out of the local kitchen. No telling what kind of vile things they’d do to an order of a hated customer. After paying my bill, I got up and left the table, taking a long look towards the kitchen. 

Something about that head chef seemed odd. It wasn’t just that absurdly large knife it held. My gut was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t quite place what it was. Maybe I recognized the cat from somewhere? If so, the memory hadn’t revielded itself. Perhaps it just looked like some felyne I met before. Certainly, that must have been it.

Shaking my head clear of such thoughts, I continued on my way to the gathering hall. Valentia’s gathering hall was enormous, nearly double the size of my Jarin’s. It made sense, Valentia was a larger town, a trade hub of sorts, with all sorts of hunters and merchants and travellers coming and going round the clock. It would need a well sized gathering hall for all the documents, reports, files, and whatnot that the guild normally has to record. Like many older gathering halls, this one was wooden, though I could see some sections where the wood had been replaced, possibly due to age and weather. The differences were obvious, with the newer sections’ wood looking crisp and clean, with barely any marks to mar their surfaces. 

The entrance was accessed by a pair of red painted wood doors. They opened up into a large central room, circular in design, which was different from the rectangular design I was used to. Inside the hall was a long table, behind which stood three women. These three were, I presumed, the so-called guild gals, who were responsible for posting quests for hunters to take up, as well as logging which hunters would be taking which quests, allowing the guild to know who was where and when to expect them back by. Each gal also had a small sign on the table in front of them, which read left from right: ‘Low Rank,’ ‘High Rank,’ and ‘G Rank.’

To this day, I still have no idea what the G stands for. 

The gals were dressed in the same uniform, all flowing skirts and loose blouses. But, each was differentiated by color. The low rank gal wore red, the high rank was blue, and the G rank was yellow. 

The colors are probably just arbitrarily assigned, since my old town of Jarin had the colors revered for their gals. I suppose it only matter that the three colors were there, regardless who wore which.

On the left of the quest counter, there was an accountant, a wyverian (of course) counting out coins from a large sack. These were likely to be split up into reward fees for completed quests. The guild takes pride in how much zenny it earns annually from all the deals it had struck with different regions across the continent. Trade deals, sending hunters as protection for high-end clientele, selling weapons and arms to other regions. The guild was a massive organization, one which contributed to the wellbeing of many countries, not just by slaying troublesome monsters, but by also being a wealthy business that was able to buy and sell to nearly anyone it chose. 

Close to my right side, just a short hop away from the entrance doors, was the guild shop. Here was the place for hunters to purchase any last minute items and materials for a hunt; traps, tranqs, extra rations, potions. You name it and the shop usually sold it. The catch, however, was that only hunters are allowed to buy from these specific shops. Why would a normal citizen ever need to purchase a pitfall trap? After all, there aren’t any beasts roaming the city streets. 

That’s how the guild justifies it, anyway.

Even at this early hour, there were a few hunters roaming around the large room, buying from the shop, trading between each other, signing up for quests. Some of them were just standing around chatting amongst themselves, while others were waiting near the accountant for their compensation. I noticed a group of young hunters, looking sharp in their basic hunter gear. You could tell they were fresh from their training, eager to use their newly acquired licences to do some real hunting. I made a silent prayer to whoever controls this world that all of them made it back alive.

Opposite of the entrance doors were the stairs leading upwards. The upper floors of any gathering hall housed the records, the money, the offices of management, and even some spare beds for any guild members working overtime. Like many halls, the guildmaster’s office was on the top floor. Five flights of stairs. Why is it always the top floor? 

Making my way up, I passed by a few non-hunter guild members. Some of them were dressed in research apparel. Likely these people were here for recon and study of local fauna and flora. They didn’t seem interested in me, so I walked by without making conversation. By the time I had made it to the top floor, my legs were a slight bit sore. Perched here on the top floor, there was only one room, and standing outside was a lone guardsman, dressed in nicely polished steel armor. 

As I tried to knock on the door, the guard stopped me, placing his hand on my chest and pushing me back slightly. “You got a reason to talk to the boss?” he snarled at me. I could see the glare he was giving me, as if daring me to take action.

I cleared my throat and told him, very plainly, “I’m a transfer from Jarin. Supposed to see the guildmaster.” 

“Jarin?” he mumbled. He gave it some thought before nodding. “Alright, yea. I remember Rek saying something about that. Go on in. Don’t cause no trouble, and I won’t cause you no trouble, yea?” He gave a small smirk before stepping aside, his armor making slight noises from the movement.

I knocked once before a voice boomed out, “Open door policy, come on in!”

Open door? Then why have a guard trying to keep people away?

Thinking no more on that, I opened the door and stepped inside. Right away, I could see the difference between here and the one back home. This office had hardly any clutter. The room looked barely used. No extra cabinets or drawers. No boxes overflowing with papers. I could even see the walls in this room. Adorned on the walls were paintings, portraits of old, famous guild members. Hunters both human and palico, wyverian researchers, renown blacksmiths, long dead people from every generation of the guild lined the walls. And there, opposite the door, sitting behind a large desk, was Valentia’s guildmaster. 

He was a big man. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, a strong jaw. He looked to be a hunter’s hunter. He could easily outdo many hunters out on the field, but instead he slouched over a desk. He was staring at me with eyes the color of a stormy sky. Those gray orbs pierced through me and left me feeling a bit smaller. I couldn’t find the words I had practiced, my mouth refusing to move. 

Raising an eyebrow, he spoke, his voice loud as a thunderclap, “Well don’t just stand there all day, boy, speak up!” He gestured for me to do something, anything. Finally, my mouth found its footing and I was able to talk.

“Guildmaster, sir, Griggs from Jarin reporting for transfer.” I gave the same military manner of speech I gave my old guildmaster, assuming it was how to speak to an authority figure.

“Sir?” He began to chuckle. It soon developed into a full belly laugh. I started to feel a bit red faced, unsure of what I did wrong. 

After an agonizing minute or two of hearing him laugh at me, he wiped his eyes and spoke. “Boy, name’s Rek. Ain’t no ‘sir’ needed around here,” he said, a laugh still threatening to bubble out. Guildmaster I may be, but you don’t gotta go treating me any different from anybody else.”

He motioned me to a chair placed nearby. Taking the offer, I placed myself squarely on the seat. I pulled out the letter I was to give him and handed it over. He took it without a word, opening it and looking over the contents therein. He made sounds of acknowledgement and then folded the letter again, putting it down on the desk. He looked me over, those stormy eyes looking through my very essence. 

“So,” he said, “you’re from Jarin, eh?”

I nodded and explained, “I couldn’t find any more joy in hunting, so I figured maybe moving away would help in my search for a new life.”

“Did your guildmaster tell you to come here, or was it your choice?”

“It wasn’t my decision. But, I think Valentia’s a great place, especially for someone changing careers.”

He rubbed his slightly stubbly chin at that. “Did old Po tell you he taught me before?”

“Yes,” I exclaimed. “He told me that right before I left. Said the two of us might have something in common or something like that.” 

He sighed. “The old man ain’t wrong. I also gave up the hunter’s life. Saw too many good people die an early death. Couldn’t really handle it after a time, so I walked away” 

I nodded in agreement. Too many young hunters now stuck in graves. Or worse, inside some monster’s belly. 

He let out a shaky breath and sat upright. He pulled open a drawer and took out some papers, placing them in front of me. “These,” he noted, “need to be read over and then signed. It will make you an official member of Valentia’s branch of the guild, and then I can introduce you to your new line of work.”

I looked up at him questioningly. “You already have a position for me?” I was a bit skeptical. I had only just arrived. I thought it would take a few days before he could find me a job.

“Well, yes and no. I got a place that could use some help, but you’re free to pick somewhere else with an open slot.”

“Yes!” I said, a bit too quickly. “I’ll take it, whatever it is.” I was overjoyed to already have a new job. I’m sure whatever it was would be fine.

He smiled wide, showing off his teeth. “Excellent. I was hoping you’d agree. Now, how about you just go ahead and look through those papers, so we can go ahead and call you a citizen of our fine town?”

I hurriedly skimmed the papers, signing off everything that needed my signature. Next of kin, date of birth, blood type, all the usual stuff. As I was busy reading and signing, there was a knock on the office door.

“Open door, people!” Rek yelled out. “Don’t know why they can’t just get it through their skulls,” he grumbled under his breath. 

Probably because of that man in armor right outside, I thought, but I knew better than to voice my opinion.

The door opened up to show the white and gray tabby from the kitchen, still wearing that same blue apron. No giant knife, though. Now at a closer distance, I could see their fur was trimmed short like the waiter cat’s. I could see how the white fur stretched from just under the muzzle, all the way down the chest and belly, coming to a stop underneath the apron. The rest of their fur was gray, with a slightly darker shade running little stripes across. And their eyes were the color of emeralds, shining in the dim light coming from the window. Even from here I could tell it was, like many palicos, half my size. If I was standing, it would probably have the top of their head just an inch or two above my waistline. 

It shut the door and walked up to the desk, not even looking my way. It climbed onto the desk and stood up, looking down at the guildmaster as it spoke, “It’s been a week now, Rek. Where’s the replacement you told me about?” Judging by the slightly higher pitched voice, I guessed this cat was female.

Rek raised his hands in defense. “Calm down, girl, no need to be brash.” He pointed over to me then. “You wanted a new hire, here he is.”

The female felyne glanced over, then back to Rek. “Are you kidding? A human?” She kicked a stack of papers, sending them flying through the air. “You’re just wasting my time! We’re short on staff, and I can’t keep playing your stupid games.”

Rek stood up, dwarfing the little woman. When he spoke, his voice was harsh, almost like a stern parent scolding a child. “Nesta, I told you he was your guy. He’s a transfer from Jarin and needs a new job. Now, you can take him and get yourself a new worker, or you can keep wasting both our times yelling at me.”

The palico, Nesta, narrowed her eyes and let out an angry huff, hopping off the desk and storming towards the exit. When she left, she slammed the door behind her, causing the room to shake slightly. A moment later the door reopened, with Nesta calling out, “Send him by the kitchen for the evening shift.” When she left this time, she closed the door softly, almost as an apology for being so harsh.

Rek sat down, mumbling to himself. He shook his head and said, “Sorry for Nesta’s behavior, Griggs. She’s a bit strung out due to having to run the evening and overnight shift all by herself.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I shrugged. “I’ve dealt with angry people before. Never an angry palico, though.”

He laughed. “She ain’t usually like this. Once you get to know her, and once things calm down a bit, she’ll go back to her normal ways. She’s actually rather pleasant to talk with most of the time.”

“So, I’m gonna be working in the kitchen?”

“Ah, that. Yea, they’re short on hands right now. Some of the younger cats decided they’d rather form their own hunting party than do food service. Can’t say I blame them for wanting something else, but I can blame them for up and leaving without a moment’s notice. Just here one day, gone the next.”

“Never thought I’d be working under a palico.” Most of the palicos I’d worked with before had been hunters. Decent hunters, not as hard hitting as a human, but still good enough at their job to make it back home. Most of the time, at least. 

Rek pulled out a pipe and began to puff on it. It smelled oddly sweet. Certainly not tobacco. The smoke coming from his lips gave him the image of an old dragon past its prime, wanting nothing more than to stay in its nest and sleep. I could see bags under the man’s eyes, the lines on his face and neck. He gave off the persona of a strong hunter, but he clearly was beyond that. As the clouds of smoke poured out from his mouth, he took a deep breath and asked me to hurry along with my paperwork.

Once all was signed and sealed, I had become an official Valentian citizen, ready to take to my new life with vigor. Before I left, Rek informed me that he’d be on the lookout for any available homes for me, and would pass the info along. He even offered me a free bunk in the gathering hall while we searched for a house, so I would at least have some kind of bed. Rek was a good man. I liked him.

I had plenty of time before my first shift started, so I decided to take the bed offer and have myself a well needed nap. The cots in the gathering hall weren’t much more comfortable than the ones on the sandship, but it was better than nothing. I managed to sleep for a few hours and woke up feeling a bit better. I even had two hours until my shift began, so I wasted the time reading an old favorite book. I got so caught up in my reading, I didn’t even notice I had only twenty minutes to get to the canteen on time.

I dashed out of the gathering hall like a Bulldrome, not wanting to risk being late. I almost bowled over a few people in my path, narrowly avoiding tripping over a few small felynes wandering about. When I finally made it to the canteen, I was blown away by how many people were around. The tables and benches were nearly all full of hunter, merchants, and felynes waiting for their meals. Looking around, I saw that orange tabby from earlier going to and fro taking and delivering orders, along with two other cats, one snow white and the other calico. All three were dressed in similar smocks while they went about their business, handing out orders, refilling empty mugs of ale, and doing their best to keep the large crowd happy. 

After a few minutes of running around, the fire-colored cat noticed me and came over. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Not-A-Hunter,” he exclaimed with a small twitch of his lips. What a comedian, this one.

“I’m actually gonna be working here,” I told him. He gave me a quizzical look before I told him about the guildmaster assigning me here. “Also,” I noted, “my name’s Griggs.” I ended that by extending my hand in a friendly handshake.

The rusty palico shook my hand and introduced himself as “Milik.”

He walked with me to the kitchen and pointed out the white and calico felynes outside as Joy and Larsa, respectively. Inside the kitchen was mostly the same as it was during my first visit, though there weren’t as many hands on deck as then. It was rather empty, only three palicos dashing everywhere, preparing all the food for the crowd outside, among them was Nesta herself, looking a bit frazzled. Her short ears was standing on high alert, her apron painted with various stains of who knows what foods, and her long tail was wrapped gingerly around one of her thighs. 

Milik cleared his throat rather loudly, taking hold of all the cats’ attentions. Once all three paused, Milik gestured to me and said, “Rek’s new hire finally got here.” At this, the two palicos unknown to me just grimaced and went back to their business, irritated at being stopped from their work. Nesta, however, gave a weak smile and walked over. 

As she neared, I could see the dim lights overhead causing her emerald eyes to shine. They were a bit entrancing, those pools of green. Within those eyes, I could see a realm of possibility. How odd, I thought, being pulled in by the eyes of a palico. I had to mentally kick myself when I noticed she had said something but didn’t catch it. Sheepishly, I asked her to repeat herself.

“I said, thanks for taking the job,” she said after a small sigh of annoyance. “We needed some extra people, and no one from the day shift wanted to help out.” She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me along deeper into the kitchen, pointing out everything I’d need to learn. Where the tools were, where the food was kept, how to work the ovens and grills and whatnots. I’d always prided myself on being a fast learner, so once we actually got going and making orders, I caught on fairly quickly and took to it with ease. 

I was used to cooking, since when I was a hunter, I opted to not have a housekeeper. So, I usually made my own little meals when home and did my best to keep the place tidy. As such, it made things pretty easy that day. With a human around, the palicos could keep themselves busy dealing with making orders while I was essentially the lacky. I cleaned the floors and countertops most of the time, fetched any ingredients needed by the cooks, and relay information about customer orders from the waiters outside. When I did make an order myself, it was under the watchful eye of head chef Nesta, who was quick to point out any mistakes made in the process. Once, I had accidentally spilled some strong smelling spices onto an order of fried Plesioth cuts, and she exclaimed the meal was ruined and we had to start over. 

All in all, we managed to get through the dinner rush fairly well. With hands-on training like this, I would be able to become a useful member of the staff in no time. I even learned the names of the other cats working the kitchen. The bulky one with the basic palico beige and brown fur was Deris, and the black and white one was Quill. 

As the crowd outside cleared away, and the orders were coming less frequently, the staff all collectively let out a breath of relief. Most of these cats were running double shifts along with Nesta, so they all seemed happy to have a small break for now. As I mingled with the other workers, I found out most of them were just as pissed about the vanishing palicos as Nesta, threatening to wring their necks if they ever showed up in Valentia again. 

Mental note, do not piss off palico kitchen staff.

Deris, in particular, seemed to have taken the blow as hard as Nesta did. He ranted for nearly ten minutes on how immature the other palicos were for leaving the way they did, and how they didn’t deserve the chance to be hunters if this was how they’d treat their coworkers. When he was slowly coming down from his anger, he began to grumble to himself about “stupid kittens.”

The sun had long since set, and the moon was high in the night sky when Nesta came over to me, offering a small cup of goldenfish brew. It was a slightly bitter drink, but it worked fast to get a buzz going when you needed it. The small amount I was offered wasn’t nearly enough to make much of a difference to me, though.

The short tabby let out a sigh and stared out the window, her eyes set on the stars. Since things calmed down, she wasn’t on edge anymore. Her ears had relaxed, drooping a bit, her tail unfurled from her leg and was lazily swaying around. Once tense shoulders finally were at ease. 

While she gazed at the night sky, I began to study her body. The small, fat ears that ended in little dark gray tips of fur. The short cut of her gray and white hair. The smallest hint of muscle in her arms. The waist that bulged out slightly. Wide hips and chubby thighs that were the unmistakable sign of femininity. The long, thin tail.

I hadn’t even noticed a furred hand on my forearm until someone snapped their fingers right next to my ear. It was Milik, his face a mixture of confusion and worry.

“Griggs,” he hushed, “May I speak with you outside.”

“What?” I questioned.

His eyes made a quick glance to Nesta before focusing back on me. He nodded his head towards the door outside, urging me to follow him. We walked to the other side of the canteen, away from the other workers, and sat down at a table far from any customers. I questioned again what Milik wanted.

“Just don’t. With Nesta.” He made a little grimace. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was even talking about, and told him as such. Eyes narrowed my way when he spoke again. “I saw the way you looked at her. She’s been through enough as is. Don’t pursue this,” he warned.

This gave me pause. I was just noting her appearance, I wasn’t looking at her with desire. Sure, her eyes were oddly enchanting, but she was a palico. I was human. Nothing would come of this, regardless.

Although, if Milik was warning me like this, perhaps it meant something was possible.

No, don’t be an idiot. Just drop it.

I brushed off his words and went back to the kitchen, ready to say my goodbyes for the night. As I did, only one other cat left: Joy, the snowball. She was the only other one who wasn’t running double shifts aside from myself. Hopefully soon, Rek would find some more people to bring in on staff and save everyone from overworking themselves. 

I made my way down to the bathhouse. It was, like many guild-owned buildings, a bit old looking. It still had charm to it, though, and the people running it were warm and friendly. Once done there, I headed back to the gathering hall, the call of my cot whispering promises of sweet dreams. 

The next day was mostly the same at first. Waking up, I wasted time reading. When I went to work, it was just as busy as yesterday. When Milik saw me, he glared my way before shooing me to the kitchen. I didn’t really understand what his deal was. 

During work, Quill saddled herself next to me while I prepared an order of Popo tongues, giving me instructions on the proper spices and seasonings to rub onto it, and what temperature to grill it at and for how long. She smacked my hand when I tried to flip one of the tongues over, informing me that the bottom side wasn’t finished yet, and that the customer ordered it well done. Disgusting degenerate. Don’t they know meat should always be medium rare to be considered perfect? When the black and white cat finally told me to flip it, I felt sick looking at the dark brown top. How could anyone enjoy their meat nearly burned like this? I bet it was one of those wyverian freaks. 

Right before my shift ended, Nesta came up to me again, offering another cup of goldenfish brew. We talked then. 

She took a long pull from her cup. “I used to live in Dundorma,” she said, wiping her mouth. “It wasn’t a glamorous place, by any means. Always looking like it needed repairs. Constant elder dragon attacks. It was a nightmare.” Sighing, she continued, “Rek showed up one day, just looking for some people he could convince to leave Dundorma. Lo and behold, he walks into the canteen, and offered me a job.” A little chuckle escaped her lips. “You should’ve seen the head chef. He was so mad Rek had the audacity to poach his workers.

“But, I said yes. And over time, through hard work, I managed to become head chef here.”

“Do you enjoy it here?” I asked, taking a sip from my cup. 

“I do. Really. It’s not always easy, but nothing worth doing ever is, right?” Her right ear twitched, and I heard the kitchen door open. In walked none other Rek himself. He took one look at me and marched right over, some papers folded up in his hand. Outside the kitchen, I caught sight of his doorguard, stock still waiting for the guildmaster’s return.

He gave them to me with a smile. “Congratulations, Griggs. I found you some nice places to live. Take your pick.” He leaned in and gave a mock whisper, “I’d choose fast, if I were you. I was supposed to give these to our realtor, but I figured you could take a quick look first,” he finished with a wink. 

I was shocked. Not only had I gotten a job so quickly, but Rek had gone out of his way to find me a home earlier than I thought possible. He was good people. I chose a small little place just north of the center of town. It was a bit rundown, needed some repairs before I could properly move in, but considering my small fortune from Jarin, I could afford the wait. Rek gave a big belly laugh when I told him my choice, and just clapped me on the back, telling me to see him tomorrow to finalize the paperwork.

Upon waking up the next day, I went to see Rek immediately to wrap up the deal with my house. Once all was in order, I headed out to see the woodworker in the market. He was a stocky little man dressed in leathers, working outside a large green tent. Inside were his tools of the trade and some examples of what he could make. I acquired his services in repairing my new home. He didn’t ask for as much as I thought he would,but if the displays inside his tent were anything to go by, he knew his way around wood to do the job right.

Before I headed to work, we caught wind of a Jhen Mohran heading to Val Habar. Many of Valentia’s hunters decided to head out to assist their brothers-in-arms fend off the large creature. Hearing about it brought memories of when I first encountered such a beast. I was young, fresh out of training, and was assigned to track and kill a Mohran along with a handful of other young hunters. We managed it fine, avoiding any casualties. I can still smell the beast’s horrid, breath. Like rancid meat. 

Walking into the kitchen, everyone seemed happy to have the small break in the usual hectic dinner scene. Deris and Quill took out some cards and began to play together, while Larsa came into the kitchen and gave everyone a round of drinks. Nesta, being the head chef, had the last say on whether we were allowed to drink on the clock, but she just shrugged and pretended she didn’t see anything. 

Every now and then there would be the odd order or two, and with Deris and Quill busy with card games, Nesta and I dealt with the majority of the work. Unfortunately, every time she would come near, I’d have to avoid her eyes, fearing getting stuck in their allure.

Toward the end of my shift, that striped felyne found her way over to me, once more handing me some goldenfish brew. Must be her favorite, I assumed. Again, we began to talk while drinking, enjoying the peace that came with having no customers for the moment. 

“Why did you agree to take the position here?” Nesta asked, looking up at me with those deep green pools. I had to fight to find my words.

“Honestly, I was just happy to have a job so soon. At first, I thought it was a bit weird to work with a bunch of palicos like this, but everyone here’s pretty nice to work with.” Except Milik. Every day he glared as I came to work. He barely even spoke to me now, avoiding interacting with me by sending Joy and Larsa to deliver all the orders to the kitchen. Just what was his problem?

A warm smile wormed its way on Nesta’s face. “I’m just glad you’re here. It’s been rough without all those extra hands. It’s still not easy even with you around, but you’re a great help either way.”

After the shift ended, I went home as usual. My mind gave me odd dreams of a short, shadowy figure running soft hands over my naked body. 

The fourth day was just as busy as my first two. Not much time for slacking off like yesterday. I didn’t get much time to make customers’ food, as I was ordered to stay out the way of the three experienced cooks and just hand them anything they needed. 

Again, like every previous night, Nesta sat beside me before I left, giving me a cup of the same slightly brownish liquid. Rek was right about her being pleasant when she wasn’t stressed. She had a comforting presence about her, leaving me able to talk about nearly anything. I felt comfortable enough to be more open with her. It had been a while since I had just vented to another person and let out some steam. 

I talked about my reasons for leaving the hunting life, my nightmares of seeing people killed by monsters, the fears I’d had about ending up just like them. She took my words in quietly, allowing me to just let out a stream of consciousness. At some point, I nonchalantly mentioned how I found her eyes mesmerizing, which made me almost want to punch myself in the gut. I noticed her eyes first widen, then narrow, as if she was deciding how to respond to such a statement. 

She looked me in the eyes, those emerald orbs shining in the dim light. I could feel something pulling me to them. There was a strange glint in those eyes, I wasn’t sure what it signified. Nesta took a look around the kitchen, almost nervously. 

Was she plotting something? I thought. Was she going to attack me and didn’t want any witnesses? Did I offend her? 

The little felyne leaned in and whispered, so softly I could only just hear, “Meet me here once the graveyard shift ends.” She then patted my cheek with her velvet soft paw pads and walked off.

During her retreat, I could notice a slight bounce to her hips. She even looked back to check if I was paying attention, then continued on her way, sashaying all the while. 

After the shift ended, and I was heading to the gathering hall, I began to think about what Nesta wanted. Why had she whispered? Was this some way to humiliate me? Did she set Milik after me in the hopes I’d fall for a trap? Should I even go? Should I just remain at my bunk and ignore this?

So, I found myself at the canteen in the early morning light. The midnight shift was due to end soon, and I had seated myself at an empty table. When Milik noticed me, he went out of his way to avoid walking near me, opting to have Larsa deal with me. She offered me some ale and we talked a bit before she had to deal with customers. I waited patiently while sipping on my drink. By the time the late night shift ended, the day crew were already buzzing around and finding things to do. 

Some of my coworkers waved to me, but didn’t have the energy to talk, leaving for their respective beds. All but one, of course. The striped felyne who called me out. She headed my way, untying her messy apron and balling it in one hand, a small bag held in the other. She had a little smile playing on her lips when she stood in front of me. 

“Well,” she said, “ready to go?” Saying such, she began to walk off down the street.

I quickly followed behind her. “Where are we going, exactly?” I asked. 

She looked over her shoulder at me. “To my place. There’s...something I need to ask. Privately.” 

I began to ponder what she would need of me. And why me, specifically? Certainly, she could ask one of her other coworkers she’s known longer than a few days. 

As we walked, I noticed the buildings change slightly. They began to become newer looking, the wood more fresh in appearance. Seeing as it was still early morning, there weren’t many people on the street, but the ones that were did stop and look at the two of us. Probably wondering where we were going. I was wondering the same.

Finally, Nesta stopped before me. We were right outside a small one story house. I guessed this was hers. This became apparent when she pulled a ring of keys from the bag and unlocked the door. She turned to me again and invited me inside, hurrying me through the entrance.

The inside was fairly well kept. Clean and orderly. Nothing out of place. In the main room, as soon as we walked through the entrance, there was a little couch the perfect size for palicos. On the walls were artworks depicting heroes fighting monsters, mostly based on old myths and legends. One such painting showed a lone man fighting a gigantic White Fatalis, based on childhood fables of the Great Hero. Ridiculous. The man would die instantly if it was reality. 

“Um, Nesta. What are we doing-”

I was cut off by her pushing me to sit down a small couch. She moved to straddle my lap, gazing up at me, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight pouring from the windows. This made me very nervous. What was going on?

Her lips broke into a wide grin, and she let out a little squeak of joy as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled her head into my chest. Her furred arms tickled the side of my neck. Her actions were confusing me beyond reason. 

She pushed back after a few moments, breaking the short silence. “Ok, so now I need to ask something very...personal,” she said, extending her claws, dragging them lightly down my cheek, barely even touching skin. “I wanted to ask if, well...would you pet me?” She buried her face into my chest again, her cheeks flush with warm embarrassment. 

I’m not ashamed to admit my heart skipped a beat hearing this. For years, I’ve always wanted to run my hands through a palico’s fur, just to see how soft it would be. But such a thing was seen as a taboo. After all, you don’t go running around touching random people’s hair, so why do it to palicos?

But, there I was, a palico straddling me, asking me to pet her. What else could I do but give in? 

I raised my hand and ran it along her back, taking note of the way her muscles moved to give me better access as she arched her back. Taking the initiative, I allowed my hand to find its way to the top of her head, feeling the short hairs, running my fingers along her wide ears, then back down to her skull. I then began to dig my nails in slightly, scratching her stripy hide. 

Once I began to drag my nails through her fur, she let out a soft moan. Taking the obvious hint, I brought my other hand to scratch down her back and sides. Her soft moaning eventually turned into purrs, her body vibrating against mine as I pet her.

This dragged on for a few minutes before Nesta pushed off me and got off the couch. Fearing I may have went too far, I reached out for her, only for her to pull my wrist towards her. This led to me leaning down a bit, my face level with hers, my eyes mirrored by her own. That same sparkle from earlier could be seen within them, making me wonder again what it meant.

“I know that was probably...a bit weird. Having me just ask you to pet me like that.”

Weird doesn’t even begin to describe it, I thought. 

“Maybe a little,” I said, “but it wasn’t bad.” I gave a awkward smile, hoping that didn’t sound as stupid as I thought it did.

Nesta licked her lips and looked away. “It’s just…” She moved to sit beside me on her small couch, scooting over to lean against my side. “I’ve always kinda had a thing for humans. And I’ve talked with an old friend in Val Habar who told me she and her hunter friend started a relationship recently. And I sorta wanted something like that myself.”

Clearing my throat, I stated, “While I’m flattered, I kinda don’t get it. I just got here. Why not a guy you already know?”

I could feel her shrug. “I just never got any feeling of interest from them. Not a lot of humans like the idea of being intimate with a felyne. And with you saying you like my eyes, it made me feel like I had a chance, I guess.”

We both went quiet after that. The silence left a heavy air in the room. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arm around her smaller frame, my hand coming to rest on the soft fur on her stomach. I began to lightly scratch the skin underneath, hoping to erase this sudden awkward tension. She let out a small sigh and pushed my hand away.

“I want to try an actual relationship,” she said, a touch of nervousness in her voice. “I know it seems sudden, and it’s probably stupid of me to ask, but-” I cut her off by kissing the top of her head. 

“Nesta, I’m not entirely sure why you picked me, but I’m willing to do this. I can’t promise a lot, but I’ll do what I can to make you happy.” Kissing the top of her head once more, I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. “Even if that means petting you everyday.”

She let out a wonderful little laugh and hugged me. “Just promise to be patient. I’ve never been with a human before, so I’m not entirely sure how things will work.” 

Looking up at me, she had that same glint in those emerald eyes. I could feel myself being dragged into them, but this time, I welcomed the sensation. I lifted up the palico lass and planted a soft kiss on her lips, smiling at the small look of embarrassment on her face.


End file.
